


lover man

by maddy_does (favefangirl)



Series: carry on countdown 2020 [11]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, hints at smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:47:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27903214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/favefangirl/pseuds/maddy_does
Summary: Baz has had a rough day and wants nothing more than a bath and bed. Simon stops by to make his night just that bit more bearable.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: carry on countdown 2020 [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026733
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55
Collections: Carry On Countdown 2020





	lover man

**Author's Note:**

> Carry On Countdown Day 11, DEC 5: Fluff

Today is just not the day.

Baz is the kind of tired that seeps into your bones and leaves your body feeling heavy. He’s been sat in the library, hunched over his laptop for the better part of four hours and he’s made no headway with his essay on The Self in Shakespeare. It feels like banging his head against a brick wall jus trying now. 

The day was destined to go wrong, though. Baz’s alarm hadn’t gone off that morning which meant he’d overslept and had to sprint to the 9 am meeting he had with his supervisor. Then he’d forgotten his research notes, so he’d had to make it all up on the spot. He’d hoped his bullshit had been convincing, but his supervisor had seen right through him. He then had to rush back home to grab said notes before having a study brunch with the other people on his course. They’d spent an hour talking about an article Baz had never read, so he felt stupid as he sat there, trying to add as much to the conversation as possible without knowing what they were actually talking about. He’d spent the rest of the day in the library, traying to wrangle his essay into some kind of coherency, but it was having none of it. He’d booked his session until 9, but left at six thirty, physically unable to spend a second longer in that suffocating room.

The plan was to go straight home, have a shower, maybe make something to eat, then settle down with some more reading in the hopes that another academic’s work might somehow offer the path to enlightenment (and completion) that he was looking for. 

Fundamental exhaustion is his perpetual state these days, though. He doesn't remember the last time he had a proper night's sleep, between working all hours, his recurring insomnia, and the fact that the people in the flat below him seem to throw a party every other day which generally doesn't die down until three in the morning. He's not been eating properly, grabbing quick meals like sandwiches and crackers and cheese just to have some kind of sustenance, but without the cooking time. 

Worst of all, he's been neglecting his friends. He has people on his course that he works with, but they aren't social. Everything centres around their subject which is too exhausting, and too pretentious, to stretch into his day to day. Penny, Shepard, and Agatha, however, are a completely different story. They all have next to nothing in common, and on paper they should hate each other. But, inexplicably, he has a genuine sense of care for each one of them. 

And Simon-

Being with Simon is the best thing to ever happen to Baz. He's brash, and annoying, and loud, and his table manners make Baz flinch, but Simon is also beautiful, and kind, and probably the love of Baz's life, God help him. Most days, he was the only thing that got Baz out of bed in the morning. Yet, they haven't had a proper conversation in weeks. Simon is often equally busy, but it was Baz who has been cancelling plans last minute, and flaking on phone calls. He's beginning to feel a physical pain in his chest at the loss. 

He collapses through the door of his flat and immediately notices something is up. There's a pile of post on the table next to his door that hadn't been there this morning, a pair of beat up Nike trainers by his shoes on the rack, and the smell of onion and garlic wafting in from the kitchen. With a frown, Baz goes to investigate, and stops short once he reaches the kitchen. 

Simon is there, by the oven, a wooden spoon in one hand, a jar of chili flakes in the other, stirring a large pot of what seems to be a tomato sauce. There's a second pan next to it, in which Baz can just see some penne pasta. 

He's so taken aback by what he sees that he loudly asks, "What the actual fuck, Simon?"

Simon turns around to look at him with a deer in the headlights expression. "Dinner?" he supplies, noncommittally.

"Dinner?" Baz repeats, looking from Simon at the stove to where the table has been set with Baz's best cutlery, and a vase of wilting roses in the centre. It looks a little sad, but Baz is strangely touched by the gesture. "Like a dinner date?"

"Yes," Simon answers uncertainly. Baz turns back to look at him. "Or, no?"

Baz is still a little in shock. He can't remember the last time he and Simon saw each other, but now here Simon is, in his kitchen, cooking Italian food and laying the table like some kind of old romantic (which he distinctly isn't) as though it's the most casual thing in the world. It happens all the time, but he's once again struck by how much he loves the man in front of him.

"Simon, this is amazing," Baz exhales. 

Even after all these months together, he still finds it difficult sometimes to be sincere instead of offering a front to hide his own insecurity. It's easier to don a mask than to admit that he has a heart, and a heart that might get broken, at that. But with Simon there seems to be no fear of that happening. Especially when he does mad things like break into Baz's flat to host an impromptu dinner date when they've not seen each other for months.

Simon shrugs, blushing and bashful. "I know you've been working hard lately, so I wanted to do something nice." He shrugs again. "It's actually done, if you wanted to wash your hands while I plate up?"

Baz does as he's told and quickly goes to his bathroom to wash his hands. He looks his reflection in the mirror above his since in the eye, just to ask it if it knows how he got so lucky. Or, what he did to deserve this. It's all far more than he has ever deserved. 

He washes his hands then goes back to join Simon at the table. He's pouring them both a glass of wine, and Baz can tell it's a cheap brand, and a dessert wine, but he bites his tongue. Simon has arranged something lovely for them, he's not going to ruin it. 

He rests his hand on the small of Simon's back and presses a kiss to his cheek as he goes to sit down, and Simon blushes, and smiles a tiny little grin as he places the bottle down and goes to sit on the other side of the table. There's grated cheese in the centre of the table, and even a bit of lettuce on top of the pasta, which Baz assumes is meant to be a garnish. It's the sweetest thing he's ever seen, and his only complaint is how far away Simon is sitting. He wants him as close as possible to try and thank him for how amazing he's being.

"Um, yeah, so, let's eat," Simon says, and Baz gets the feeling he's trying to sound more assertive than he manages.  Baz grins into his pasta, then gathers some on his fork. He watches as Simon puts some into his mouth, moments before Baz does the same. "This is disgusting," Simon mumbles around a full mouth.

And it is. There's far too much garlic in it, the texture is coarse, and there's a loud crunch as he bites down on a whole pepper granule. He forces himself to swallow and protests, "No it isn't," like the big fat liar he is. He tries another mouthful, but this one is somehow worse than the first, and he gags as he swallows it. "Maybe a little..."

Simon looks distraught. "I'm so sorry. I was trying to do a nice thing and I've ruined it and-"

"Hey!" Baz shakes his head. "Simon, you're amazing. This," he gestures at the nearly dead flowers, and the mismatched cutlery, and the bad wine, "This is amazing."

He means it. It's nothing like he's used to in a childhood full of exaggerated 'properness', with frequent meals at places like the Ivy, but it's amazing for all reasons that it is different. For one thing, he's among much better company. And for another, no one as ever done anything this sweet for him before.

But Simon is still frowning, and poking the pasta (which is massively undercooked) with the prongs of his fork. "Hey," Baz says again, stepping lightly on Simon's foot under the table. "So, the food isn't brilliant. That's fine. We can order a takeaway. And while we're waiting for it, I don't know about you, but I could use a shower." Simon's frown softens a bit. "I'll wash your back if you wash mine."

Simon burst out with a laugh that is loud, and beautiful, and bright, and Baz doesn't know how he's managed to go without it for so long. He makes a silent vow that work or no work, he's not going to neglect Simon again like he had. Not when he can have terrible dinners, and cheap wine, and later a pizza on the sofa, curled together watching trash TV. Simon will heat Baz up in every place their bodies touch, and they'll go to bed exhausted, over full, but together. And that feels like something beautiful.

**Author's Note:**

> it's a personal headcanon of mine that simon loves to cook, but it absolutely terrible at it. you cannot prove me wrong.
> 
> anyway, if you wanna leave a comment or a kudos they're much appreciated! especially let me know if there's something you think i forgot to tag! 
> 
> i'm taking prompts! if you're interested please drop the prompt in the comments below. if you do send a prompt be prepared for me to take fifty years to fill it because _uni_ , but i promise i'll try! come say hi on tumblr: [@maddy-does](https://maddy-does.tumblr.com/)
> 
> thanks for reading, have a wonderful existence.


End file.
